


excuses

by spiritedwhere



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Sassy Yuuri, dance studio AU, needy viktor, thats basically it oh my gosh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9812018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritedwhere/pseuds/spiritedwhere
Summary: “What's the big reason you're here?” Yuuri clarifies. “Some student left a jacket in here? A leotard gave out and you need a needle and thread to sew it up quickly? You really need this thumbtack so you can pin up your newest calendar?”Viktor’s face turns a bright red as he realizes his little act has been caught on. “…It was actually going to be a list of the performances for the spring recital.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> this has literally been in my drafts for so long i'm dead inside

Katsuki Yuuri was pissed.

He clenched the water bottle in his hand, squeezing into it so tightly it begun to dribble onto his fingers. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, glasses glinting in the bright light of the room as he eyed his opponent.

His silver-haired, ocean eyed opponent. Who was currently beaming at him from the door, one hand perched lightly on it in a held knocking pose.

Who had been making excuses to see him for the past month.

_Fucking Nikiforov._

Yuuri didn't appreciate the situation he had now dragged himself in, and didn't enjoy the constant reminder that this was all his fault coming towards him either.

Although, in his defense, it hadn't seen to be a problem when it started. In contrast, it seemed like a quick and easy way to not only know the new guy, but land a nice night in bed with said guy.

What instead eventually developed was a constant headache on the verge of bursting his skull open every time Yuuri entered the dance studio, every knock on the door paired with a “Hello, Yuuri?”

He didn't want to admit it was getting on his nerves, though. He was too good looking to pin that onto.

So maybe the guy liked to visit once or twice, under the pretend disguise that they had came by for a certain item they most _certainly_ couldn't find in their own dance room or studio. And maybe, he was good looking enough that Yuuri had invited him in, made sure that while he pretended to search for this most important item, Yuuri was flaunting his best features, smiling and posing and going  _oh dear me, I seemed to have dropped all these bobby pins on the ground I guess I’ll just have to bend down and grab them all, how horrible._

He didn't really want to say the cute dance instructor down the hallway was getting on his nerves, but so far, Yuuri was having a hell of a hard time saying anything else.

_“Hey, you mind giving me a spare CD? I have to download some songs for a student.”_

_“Sure.”_

_“Sorry to intrude, but can I go through your papers? I'm afraid I misplaced the ones I had on the recital’s rehearsal schedule!”_

_“No problem. Just try not to make that much of a mess on my desk.”_

_"… Mind showing me where you put your papers?”_

_“Not at all.”_

_“Hey, any ballet shoes just lying around? Marie left hers at home and I'm not going to let her just dance on the floor barefoot! What if she injures a foot by stepping on a something sharp?”_

_“Don't you have a crate of spares in your office too?”_

_“Ahh but you see, none of them are her size. I was hoping you had a pair. Mind if I step in and take a peek?”_

_“I guess you can.”_

He was fed up with it.

“Oh Yuuri, do you-“

“No.” Yuuri turns his head from the door, moving his body back towards his students, all eying their teacher and whispering to one another. A raise of his hand, and they’re back to stretching alongside the barre, arms leaned over poised legs, backs craned in a perfect arch.

“Ah c’mon, you don't even know what I'm going to ask!” He can hear the surprise in Viktor’s tone, imagines eyes wide set and a mouth open in shock. Yuuri doesn't blame him; Yuuri himself is quite the open and pleasant guy.

But not when it comes to the dancing studio.

“Don't need to. Go ask Phichit to help out. He's practically overflowing with spare items,” Yuuri tells him. He raises the water bottle to his lips.

“He's on the other side of the building!” Viktor protests.

“Better run fast then. I have a class to teach, and so do you.” Yuuri says, before taking a sip of the bottle. He makes sure to take his time as he does so, sure Viktor won't leave anytime soon, waiting around for another shot.

When Yuuri turns his attention back towards his class, he finds a class of obedient students, and two of them with legs onto the barre and phones pulled out, trained onto Yuuri and Viktor. Their pointed toes are excellent, but the commentary that Yuuri picks up doesn't hold much comparison.

“Oh my _gosh_ , Axel, are you getting this? Lutz is gonna blow a fit when she realizes she missed this!”

“Every second!”

“Loop, Axel, I will not hesitate to call your mother and tell her that she sent you guys over here to train internationally with me only so you'll gossip about your teachers.”

"But Yuuri-“

“That's Mr. Katsuki in the dance studio. And you know no phones are allowed in the studio.”

"Yes, Mr. Katsuki.”

When the leotarded pair returns from dropping their phones into Yuuri’s office, grumbling and signing on about how their blog _needs this quality dancing content_ , Yuuri finds himself still stuck with this problem.

This tall, good-looking, flirtatious problem. He sighs as he puts the water bottle down. Making for the door, he looks back into the wall length mirror to eye his classroom.

"Continue your stretches,” Yuuri tells his class. “One minute rests on each leg, and then drop down to a straddle stretch. When you finish that, pair up and start a partner’s stretch.”

He brushes past Viktor and enters the hallway. When Viktor turns his body around and leaves the door to close, Yuuri crosses his arms and looks up at him.

“Nikiforov, if you don't mind me asking, what's your excuse this time?” Yuuri doesn't bother to hide the tone in his voice.

“Excuse me?” he responds, eyes blue and blinking at him. He still has on a smile as he says it, like he could get yelled at by Yuuri every day. “My what?”

“What's the big reason you're here?” Yuuri clarifies. “Some student left a jacket in here? A leotard gave out and you need a needle and thread to sew it up quickly? You _really_ need this thumbtack so you can pin up your newest calendar?”

Viktor’s face turns a bright red as he realizes his little act has been caught on. “…It was actually going to be a list of the performances for the spring recital.”

"Use a stapler to put it up.”

“But what if-“

“You don't have one? The front desk has three. All functioning _and_ loaded with staples.”

“I'm beginning to think that you don't like me.” Viktor pouts, bottom lip exposed.

Yuuri swallows, moves his eyes upwards.

“I never said that,” he lets out, voice wavering.

“Then why so cruel?” Viktor is very much like a pet as he asks Yuuri, almost as whining as a puppy would when wanting to play around.

“Why so needy?” Yuuri asks, attempting to make his voice and face as free of emotion as possible.

Viktor blinks. He brushes a hand over his face and pushes the hair away, exposing his forehead. "Careful, Katsuki. You might shatter my heart with one of those insults.”

He makes to backtrack, not wanting to hurt him. Well, as harshly. “Ah, sorry. Didn't intend to mean it rudely.”

“With that tone, just about anything could be taken in a different way,” Viktor tells him. He flashes a grin at the end; Yuuri breathes in deeply.

_He's cute he's cute he's cute oh boy._

“Don't start up with that, Nikiforov. I want an explanation.”

“For what?”

He breathes in deeply. “Why you feel the need to visit me at any godforsaken moment,” he practically yells out in the empty hallway. “I have students to teach, who need my instruction and guidance to be the best they can be, both in and out of the studio! I will not have you jeopardizing that when you walk in and have some random reason for your intrusion!”

Viktor is quiet, eyes trained on Yuuri. “…You really do love your students,” he says, once the silence is overwhelming. His eyes are shining, Yuuri notes. “That's incredible; the amount of care you have for them all.”

He's in awe. Yuuri doesn't know what to say in response. How to respond to Viktor.

Eventually, Yuuri presses a hand onto his forehead. "I don't have time for this,” he mutters. Yuuri goes to touch the handle. “Just- just get in, get out, and leave me be.”

“Does this mean I can show up later?” Viktor asks, as Yuuri begins to turn the handle.

“No, not a chance.”

“And you say you don't like me.”

Yuuri stops his movement on the handle. He turns his head to look at a Viktor head on, eyes locked on his gaze. “Listen, it's not that I don't like you-“

“Ah, so you like me!” His grin turns even wider, if possible, showing a heart-shaped gap in his face.

"But, you need to stop with this,” Yuuri continues. “I'm getting pissed.”

“You don't look pissed.” Viktor’s still beaming.

“Ah, I don't?” Yuuri challenges him.

“Not at all,” Viktor gleefully tells him.

“What do I look like then? Because I feel pissed off.”

“If I'm being honest, you look more aroused than pissed.”

Yuuri aims for a scoff, instead, catches a gasp for air at Viktor’s response. As he aims for something to fill his lungs, Viktor makes to move past him. He starts his descent down the hallway.

“I think I'll go and check the office, like you said. Maybe I'll find what I'm looking for there.”

Inside the dance room, half the class scatters back to the barre, the other locked in place at the door, straining to hear more.

_Fucking Nikiforov._

**Author's Note:**

> @inuyashas_ on twitter


End file.
